


Jack Daniels and Heartaches

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: He Was My Almost [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anger, Angst, Comfort Sex, Dalton Academy, Dalton Sebastian Smythe, Drabble, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends With Benefits, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Romance, Rutting, Skank Kurt Hummel, Underage Drinking, mention of past self-harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:17:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4514649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian goes to Kurt's room in the middle of the night after he hears Kurt crying, and discovers something that their usual repertoire of snarky remarks and meaningless sex acts won't be able to fix. </p><p>Follows 'Mutually Amenable'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jack Daniels and Heartaches

Sebastian has become strangely attuned to the sound of Kurt crying, especially in the middle of the night. Through the drywall of their joined wall, which really doesn’t do that good a job at dampening noise anyway, Sebastian hears Kurt sniffle. Kurt holds his breath as he tries to stop, hiccupping once with sobs that he can’t restrain. Kurt might stuff a pillow over his face, or shove the heel of his palm in his mouth to contain the noise, but it makes no difference. Sebastian can tell the moment tears start to fall. It wakes Sebastian from a dead sleep, though there aren’t too many of those when he’s not sleeping in Kurt’s bed.

Kurt’s whimpers force Sebastian’s eyes open, and he rises from his mattress. He walks straight out his door without stopping to put on his slippers or a robe first, locking up behind him because he knows he’s not coming back for the rest of the night. It’s crossed Sebastian’s mind several times that they don’t have too many months of school left, so he and Kurt might as well make a habit of sleeping with each other while they can.

He decides he’ll talk to Kurt about it when whatever this is passes.

Sebastian gets to Kurt’s room and he unlocks the door, the key to Kurt’s room hooked on Sebastian’s keyring next to his own.

Kurt doesn’t object to Sebastian walking in unannounced. In fact, he doesn’t acknowledge Sebastian’s presence at all. He’s lying on his bed in a black t-shirt and blue/green plaid flannel pants. His eyes stare blankly at the wall ahead, earbuds in his ears, and an iPod Sebastian hasn’t seen before lying on his chest. The room is dark except for the blue light from the iPod screen, and in the tinge lighting Kurt’s skin, Sebastian sees tears, one rolling down his cheek, then another following the same path, collecting at his jawline and dripping on to his shirt where a wet spot grows.

“Kurt,” Sebastian says, locking the door behind him. “Kurt, are you okay?”

Kurt doesn’t answer. He doesn’t look at him. Sebastian might as well not even be there.

Sebastian walks toward him, looking around for anything that might clue him in, when he notices a new addition to Kurt’s desk - a bottle of Jack, uncapped and partially drunk. Sebastian knows Kurt didn’t leave the grounds all day, so he figures a friend of his must have brought it, someone Kurt knew from his old high school or juvie. One boy in particular springs to mind. Sebastian sees the face, but he doesn’t know his name for sure. Paul? Peter? No, it’s something from Shakespeare.

Puck. That's right. It's Puck.

Sebastian remembers his ridiculous fauxhawk and his obnoxious swagger, and that he used to visit quite a bit when Kurt first got there. He still stops by from time to time to sell Kurt weed or just shoot the shit. Sebastian thought the two of them were an item because the boy always seemed to be all over Kurt. He’d strut around campus with his arm draped over Kurt’s shoulder and a glare for anyone who walked by, so possessive of his friend - less lately now, especially when Sebastian’s around.

Sebastian picks up the bottle. He examines the level of the liquid, then helps himself to a swig. If Kurt has a head start, Sebastian at least wants to get a buzz going. Sitting beside the bottle, Sebastian sees what’s left of a plain white box and some torn red wrapping paper. He squints at it in the dim light. He knows it’s not Kurt’s birthday. Kurt’s birthday’s in May. They haven’t gotten there yet. Among the shredded wrapping paper is bits and pieces of an equally shredded card. There’s script on the discarded fragments, jumbled pairs of letters that don’t make words separated the way they are. But he can make out four words that, even _whole_ , don’t make any sense.

_Happy Anniversary_

_Love Dad_

“Anniversary?” Sebastian reads quietly, looking back at Kurt, whose red-rimmed eyes are turned his way. “Hey,” Sebastian says, climbing onto the bed beside Kurt when Kurt scoots over to make room.

“Hey,” Kurt says back, then returns to staring at the wall.

“New iPod?” Sebastian asks.

“Yup.”

Kurt tends to be stoic when he’s had a bad day, so the one word answers don’t faze Sebastian. But there’s something in his gaze that has Sebastian concerned. Kurt looks hollowed out, done, like something inside him has been gouged out and then misplaced.

Sebastian grabs the earbud out of Kurt’s right ear and sticks it into his left. “So, what are we listening to?” he asks, closing his eyes and waiting for Kurt to yank it out, to tell him to go back to his room and get his own. But Kurt doesn’t. He lets Sebastian stick the earbud in his ear without an argument. Sebastian assumes it’s just the soundtrack to _Wicked_ anyway. There are more than a few songs from that musical that make Kurt teary-eyed. Three words in, Sebastian knows it’s not. It’s not any of the Broadway crap Kurt usually listens to. It’s a recording of a single voice – a woman’s voice - singing a cappella.

_Smile though your heart is aching_

_Smile even though it's breaking_

_When there are clouds in the sky,_ _you'll get by_

_If you smile through your fear and sorrow_

_Smile and maybe tomorrow_

_You'll see the sun come shining through for you_

“Who is this?” Sebastian asks. “Joni Mitchell? Melissa Manchester? It’s pretty.”

Kurt blinks his eyes, blinks another tear down his cheek, but he doesn’t answer.

_That's the time you must keep on trying_

_Smile, what's the use of crying?_

_You'll find that life is still worthwhile_

_If you just smile_

The song stops, and Sebastian waits for the next track, but there’s no more singing. The woman starts speaking, and the words from her mouth stop Sebastian’s breath cold in his lungs.

_Good-night, little prince. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite. And remember, no matter where I am, I will always be with you._

“Oh my God,” Sebastian whispers, pulling the earbud out of his ear. The woman is Kurt’s mother. That’s _her_ voice.

 _Anniversary_.

Sebastian thinks. He doesn’t know much about what happened to Kurt’s mother. Kurt talks about her the way he talks about everything in his past – vaguely, and in generalities.

She died when Kurt was eight. She had cancer. His father raised him. That’s all he’s ever said.

But anniversary? Could it have been…could that be _today_?

“Uh…my dad found these ( _sniff_ ) recordings…that my mom made me,” Kurt says, taking the remaining earbud out of his ear, wrapping the wire around the iPod, and putting it in his pants pocket. “She started before I was born. Continued up till the day she died. ( _sniff_ ) My dad had them converted, and put them on an iPod for me.”

Sebastian watches Kurt - his lips pinched tight, his eyelids heavy, his body drained from mourning his mother all over again, though he probably never stopped.

“Oh, Kurt,” Sebastian says. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t – I didn’t know…”

It’s surreal when it happens - quick as lightening and twice as hot. Kurt’s lips on his, kissing, biting, his hands working at the waistband to Sebastian’s pants, pulling them down, pausing halfway to toss off his own shirt and pants. Kurt is naked before Sebastian can take a breath, and rubbing against his cock so sublimely there’s no way Sebastian can keep from wrapping his arms around Kurt and pinning their bodies together.

“Jesus Christ,” Sebastian moans, struggling to kick off his pants without Kurt stopping, sucked too far in to even conceive of losing hold of Kurt now. He gets his pants down to his ankles and manages to break one leg loose, which suits him fine. As long as he can open his legs wide to accommodate Kurt’s body, he’s golden. He doesn’t bother with his shirt, lifting it up to his chin to feel Kurt’s smooth skin brush against his and to give Kurt room to mark up his chest with his teeth.

But Kurt keeps his mouth locked to Sebastian’s lips, inhaling and exhaling deep into his mouth, making them high off each other till Sebastian’s mind spins in circles and his body feels like it’s floating off the bed.

“Fuck me, baby?” Kurt asks into Sebastian’s next kiss, and Sebastian’s brain shorts out. With the lack of oxygen taxing his head, he can’t think much further than _Yes! Please! Now!_ to come up with a coherent answer. But he has to…because he has to say _no_.

God, he wants Kurt. He wants Kurt so bad he could scream. But not like this. Not when Kurt’s upset and possibly a sheet or two to the wind. Not for their first time together. It shouldn’t matter to Sebastian. A month or two ago it wouldn’t have mattered, but now it does. Now that he knows Kurt beyond the dyed hair, the piercings, and the combat boots, it matters a lot.

“No, Kurt, I…”

Kurt slows, hips stuttering to a stop, surprised and annoyed at being rejected, but Sebastian puts a hand to the small of Kurt’s back to keep him moving.

“It’s…I’m almost there,” Sebastian whines, and luckily, he means it. Lying to Kurt about something like an orgasm might get Sebastian cut off for a few weeks. Kurt, with a wicked smile climbing to his eyes, bears down, grinds faster, until Sebastian’s whole world becomes cool blue light and red liquid fire, Kurt’s smell on his skin, kissing him with the taste of whiskey on his lips, slowly drawing every breath from Sebastian’s body until his chest burns.

“God, Kurt. _Yes_ …” Sebastian mutters between breaths, lifting his hips up to meet Kurt’s thrusts and holding still so Kurt can ride him hard. “Yes, yes, yes…”

Kurt captures those words along with Sebastian’s tongue as his kisses become drawn out and passionate, in contrast to his ruthless body, determined to milk Sebastian for all he’s worth. When Sebastian cums, it’s with Kurt’s name gasped down his throat and Kurt swallows it, but even as Kurt’s body finally gives out, he doesn’t stop kissing, doesn’t stop searching for comfort in Sebastian’s lips – a comfort he wouldn’t ask for in any other way than this.

“Oh, Kurt,” Sebastian mumbles, laying Kurt’s body over his with arms around his waist and legs twined together. “Oh…” Sebastian swallows hard when a glance to the right brings the bottle of liquor, the red wrapping paper, and everything they represent, into view. “Oh, Kurt…”

Kurt’s panting fills Sebastian’s ears, each breath a wordless plea to _stay, hold me, don’t go_. But Kurt sees himself in the reflection of Sebastian’s gaze – a horrible, pathetic mess - and his soft, pleading eyes turn into a frigid glare.

“Leave.”

Sebastian jerks back from Kurt’s stony face, stunned by his sudden switch in attitude. They sit in silence, barely over their fading climax, in the awkward position of Kurt straddling Sebastian naked, considering his request. Sebastian weighs his options for only a second before he comes up with a reply.

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking, Smythe,” Kurt snarls, pushing Sebastian away. “I said _go_.”

“Kurt…” Sebastian puts a hand on Kurt’s shoulder that Kurt shrugs off, “we’re long past the time when you can do something like that and then force me out with no explanation.”

“It’s _my_ room,” Kurt says with unwavering calm. “If I tell you I want you gone, then you need to go. End of story.”

Sebastian breathes out and looks down Kurt’s body, shivering though it’s not cold. He sees Kurt’s hands, his knuckles raw from punching his pillow before Sebastian got there, maybe even punching the wood seat of his chair, but not the wall, knowing the noise would tip Sebastian off and call him in. Kurt had planned on suffering here in silence. He wasn’t going to tell Sebastian; he wasn’t going to ask for help.

Sebastian’s gaze moves back to Kurt’s eyes, brimming on the edge of tears. Sebastian’s never seen tears of grief in Kurt’s eyes before. That, more than anything, makes Sebastian’s heart pang, ripping into it as if Kurt’s pain is his own.

“No,” Sebastian says with a firm head shake. “I know you. I know you’re going to hurt yourself.” Sebastian’s hand finds a place back on Kurt’s shoulder with no resistance. “I know you need me.”

“I…I _need_ you?” Kurt says, mocking Sebastian, laughing in his face, and Sebastian takes it, because he knows this anger Kurt has is not really meant for him, but it has nowhere else to go. If Sebastian doesn’t take it, it will end up as cuts on Kurt’s legs or cigarette burns on his arms. Sebastian’s only seen Kurt do that once, but once is enough to know he’s capable of it. “Who do you think you are? You think that because you come in here and we smoke out and I blow you that you _know_ me? You know nothing about me, alright?”

“I know more than you think I do,” Sebastian says softly, hating the cliché of it. “That’s why I know this is all an act. Your big, scary, tough guy act, but you’re not fooling me. And I’m not leaving, Kurt. I’m not going anywhere.”

Kurt’s mouth twists, his whole face turning red. He raises a fist to punch Sebastian, but when Sebastian doesn’t flinch, it lands in the pillow, leaving a sizable dent by Sebastian’s left ear.

“You’re such an asshole!” Kurt screams, teeth grinding together. Kurt grabs Sebastian by the shoulder, pulling, blunt nails raking Sebastian’s skin as Kurt tries to force him out of bed. “You think you _know_ everything because you _have_ everything! You have everything, and you don’t even appreciate it!”

“I don’t have everything, Kurt,” Sebastian blurts out, unsure what point he’s trying to make, or why he feels the need to defend himself. This isn’t about him, but Kurt’s wrong.

Sebastian doesn’t have everything, because he doesn’t have _Kurt_.

“Ugh,” Kurt groans, disgusted. “Why don’t you just leave, huh? Why can’t you just do what I tell you?”

“I’m not leaving, Kurt,” Sebastian says, wincing as Kurt squeezes harder, as his nails dig in deeper.

“Why don’t you listen to me!? Why don’t you leave? Leave me alone!” Kurt’s voice becomes raspy, grating in Sebastian’s ear like a car grinding its gears, losing combustion but fighting to keep going. “Why? Why don’t you leave? Why did you leave?” His hands grab at Sebastian’s shirt, balling the fabric, still trying to remove him but with no strength, no will left, and Sebastian looks on, worried and confused. “Why? Why don’t you…why did you…why…why did she leave me, Bas? Why did she leave?”

“Kurt, I don’t…” Sebastian doesn’t have an answer, but his first one isn’t the right one regardless. He shakes his head, starting again. “She didn’t want to leave you, Kurt. I know she didn’t. She’d come back if she could. You know she would.”

“How, Bas?” Kurt growls, nearly tearing Sebastian’s collar. “She’s gone! That’s it! Just gone! There is no God. There is no heaven. She’s gone and I’m never going to see her again! And…and I’m so pissed! I’m so mad, and there’s no one to be mad at, Sebastian. So…so what am I going to do?”

The words fall out past trembling lips and a twitching chin. Sebastian raises a hand and runs his fingers through Kurt’s hair, carding his bangs till lime green strands blend with the chestnut ones. But in the dark, they both run together, and Sebastian doesn’t notice the color of Kurt’s hair. Just his face. His handsome face, full of sorrow, begging Sebastian to tell him that it’ll be alright, that things do get better, even when important parts of your heart have gone forever.

“You go on, Kurt,” Sebastian says, feeling helpless for a response better, a more convincing one that he can come up with. “You move forward the best that you can. You live your life, and you try to be happy. There’s nothing else you can do.”

Kurt looks devastated by that answer, but he nods, dropping his head so that when more tears fall, Sebastian won’t see them. But Sebastian feels them, landing on his collarbone and rolling down his chest. He feels them when they pool over the spot where his heart beats inside his ribcage. Kurt’s body starts to relax over his, exhaustion setting in, and Sebastian sighs. Then he grimaces. He feels old cum drying on his stomach, sandwiched between their bodies and spreading across his abs. He shifts on the bed, reaching in search of a t-shirt to wipe up their mess, but Kurt becomes rigid, tense and overworked muscles shaking uncontrollably as he lifts up on his arms to look in Sebastian’s face.

“Don’t…don’t go?” Kurt asks, his voice husky and small, turning into a yawn because Kurt is on the verge of passing out.

He’s on the verge of passing out because there’s nothing else he can do.

“No,” Sebastian says, pulling the blankets around them and holding Kurt’s body close to his own, absorbing the rapid beating of another heart against his chest and the tears drying into his skin. “I’m not going anywhere.”

 


End file.
